Revisted Games
by Dancer92
Summary: 15 years after the battle to defeat the Capitol and the demolishment of the Arenas, pestilence has left the country of Panem in dissaray; in attempt to regain control President Plutarch begins a new season of Games.
1. Truth Unveiled

_**Truth Unveiled **_

_The quiver and its arrow felt strange in my hand, hands built for painting, decorating, wielding a knife; not firing arrows. _

'_Steady,' my Mother said, in her own hands she held her bow and arrow, yet hers were sure and steady, whilst mine nervously shook and almost dropped the arrow. _

'_You have to become one with your weapon, think of it as an extension of yourself, aim and shoot!' upon the last word she released her arrow and shot a squirrel in the eye, it fell from its tree to land with a thud on the ground. I felt my stomach turn over at the sight of how neat the kill was, mine were always messy and full of blood and guts. _

'_Come now Nelda, shoot,' I started as I felt my Mother's whispered words close to my ear. Taking a deep breath I shot and was rewarded with a loud thud, from a tree branch falling; I heard my Mother sigh behind me. 'Well it was close Nelda, you'll get there soon enough, learning how to aim well takes time.' My hands clenched around the bow and I cast it to the floor, _

'_Nelda!' my Mother cried, 'how dare you!' _

'_Yet I do dare Mother! I can make a kill just fine thank-you very much and I don't need to learn how to do it with a bow and arrow!' to prove my point I yanked the small knife from my belt, spun and flung it into the back of a rabbit that had been rustling around nearby, in almost five seconds. 'Just because I look like and act like you does not mean I have to learn to hunt like you!' _

Two years later I stand in the shadows of the alder tree for which I am named with a sure hand steadying a bow and arrow. I smiled slightly as I recalled how angry I had been that day, how childish and unnecessary it had all seemed during a time where food was so scarce it really should not have been an issue of with what I hunt with but how. The pestilence has long since died out and people of District 12 had begun to live again instead of merely getting through the dismal days; Panem itself was another story. From what I could gather from eavesdropping on my parents late at night, the new president, Plutarch somebody, was petitioning to begin a new season of Hunger Games.

From what I have learnt over the years is that the Games were a horrific time of year for anyone in the districts. I knew that Haymitch- long dead, my mother and father had all competed and had won their Games and how it had led to rebellion but that is all; the Hunger Games are a forbidden topic in our home and district. The lessons of the Games had stopped being taught in schools when I reached the age of 8, just when the history of the Games became interesting; I do not fully understand what were the fundamental reason behind them Games, what an Arena was or how my parents won. Listening to their discussions late at night and seeing my Mother staring blankly at a wall for hours before my Father arrives home to revive her, makes me never want to find out.

I zeroed in on a deer ten metres away pausing for a drink it would never finish, my arrow plunged into its eye as its tongue met the water. Feeling victorious I jogged towards my kill, arrow loaded ready for other predators. As I pulled the sodden deer from the pond a large rustling to left had me spinning around with my knife in hand ready to strike; although I am rather good at archery I prefer my knife as I weapon.

'Easy,' a hasty male voice spoke stepping out of the bushes with his arms raised, the sunlight glinting in his hair, 'it's only me,'

I sheathed my knife in my belt, 'sorry dad.' He smiled slightly noticing the deer at my feet.

'Your Mother wants you home right away, no, leave the deer,' he said as I reached down to drag it home, 'this is vital.'

****

When we arrived home my Father lead me directly into the living room where my Mother sat holding my brother David tightly, I could tell he wasn't too comfortable with this.

'Katniss, Nelda is here.'

Upon hearing my name my Mother spun around to gaze at me, her face filled with pain, the scars on her face intensifying the emotion more than I thought was possible. Quickly I went to her side and crouched down low,

'What is it Mother, what's happened,' my voice catching the hysteria she was expressing. In reply she simply turned on the television, the programme was a speech from the new President and it appeared to be half way through.

'… the pestilence left Panem in tatters and control is a necessary factor in regaining strength and power. To demonstrate the strength of our country, each district throughout Panem shall willingly give two tributes, one boy and one girl from the ages of twelve to eighteen to fight to the death. In hope of bringing strength to Panem from watching the strength displayed to us from the very youngest of our great nation. All children from all districts shall submit their names to the reaping ball by midday tomorrow and reaping's shall begin the week anon. I look forward to meeting those lucky winners of this years reaping as they begin a new era of Hunger Games!' President Plutarch received his applause with open arms and a large smile before the seal of Panem was shown and the programme ended; my Mother switched off the television. Silence. All four of us stared at a blank screen for a few moments before my Mother let out an animalistic scream and threw the remote at the screen smashing it.

'No!' she screamed pulverising the television with swift kicks and punches, 'no, no, no! Why? Why? Why?' her voice began to be filled with sobs and blood ran down her arms from the smashed glass. My Father ran forward and pulled her into her arms; she clung to him and hid her face from David and I, whilst hoarse sobs tore up her throat. 'It will be okay Katniss, it will be okay,'

She pulled away from him, her eyes blazing now and fists clenched, 'How Peeta? How will this be okay? We have two eligible children, two! If you honestly believe that one of them, children of Victors won't be chosen say it now! SAY IT!' At my Father's silence she broke down again only this time she ran for the door, I knew where she was going, the woods.

'Katniss!' my Father cried running after her, but she was long gone, faster than my Father whom couldn't move to fast due to his forged leg.

Throughout all of this David had sunk further into the couch in shock whilst I had stood in shock in the same position I stood now, my hands clenched by my sides staring at the television. A sharp pain in my hand made me look down and see blood dripping from my palms where the nails had dug in. Blood. I was used to seeing the blood of animals, but not my own, I watched in fascination as it fell to the floor and wondered what it was about it that made many people feel nausea. I looked at David whom was silently crying at age fourteen he would never survive what I knew the Games may hold. I however, age sixteen, strong, young would. If anyone was going to end up in the Hunger Games from this family, it would have to be me.

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	2. The Reaping

The Reaping

_Everywhere was dark. The twisted roots of the trees beckoning me to my doom and the caw of a Jabberjay broke through the silence. I tread slowly and silently through the trees, weapon-less, bloody and afraid. Behind me the trees seem to be getting closer and closer together forming a wall of wood impossible to break through, yet before held nothing but darkness. The sound of my own beating heart filled my ears making it impossible to hear anything else and the darkness thickened before a pair of red eyes shone through the darkness. _

_When I awoke I was gasping for breath and stuck to the sheets with sweat. _

'Just a dream Nelda, it was just a dream.'I said aloud, wiping the sweat from my face I was startled to notice I was shaking; Lord, if I was this frightened from a dream of the Arena what would I be like if I or David was chosen? The very thought of it sent a chill down my spine.

'Nelda? Are you awake?' my Mother called through the door

'Yes, barely' I replied

'Well hurry and get out of bed, it's the Reaping today and we can't be late.' Boy she sounded as strained as I felt.

I swung my legs out of bed and gazed down at my bare feet resting just above the thick carpet, _please don't let me be chosen_, I thought before slowly standing to face what the day may bring.

….

The number of bodies being pressed into the square of District Twelve was becoming meaningless. It appeared the entire town had turned out to witness which of their children would be chosen for death. We were herded into pens like animals and I began to feel the tension of the others around me as we were pressed closer and closer together until I was raising my face to the cold, grey sky above to breathe.

A slow hush began to work its way through the crowd as the Mayor, John Chapmell, made his way to the front of the stage to survey the crowd before him, even from the position I was in I could make out the sadness in his face.

'Good morning all on such a joyous day,' Chapmell began, his expression accenting the dislike he felt at the statement he had just made, 'I hope all of you are most excited to discover the tributes of District Twelve!' the angry murmuring from the crowd contradicted this statement instantly. 'Before we begin I have an announcement! As the Hunger Games are being re-discovered it is time for District Twelve to re-discover their last victors! Victors that shall become mentors for out new tributes! I have the greatest pleasure to call to the stage Peeta and Katniss Mellark!'

My head whipped around to gaze at my parents and felt chills go through my spine at their expressions.

'Peeta and Katniss Mellark, make your way to the stage!' Chapmell called to them gesturing rapidly.

My Mother moved first, face deathly pale and fury sparking her eyes she claimed the arm of my Father and slowly began to make her way towards the stage.

'There we are! Ladies and Gentlemen make way for Mr and Mrs Peeta Mellark, victors of District 12!'

Chapmell began clapping enthusiastically. His clapping stilled almost immediately as he realised it was the only sound to slice through the near silence broken by the sound of my parents footsteps as they slowly ascended the weather-beaten steps to the stage. Silently my Father shook hands with mayor whilst my Mother stared stoically ahead, her arms down by her sides and fists clenched despite the bandages being slightly tinted with blood from her wounds. Chapmell held his hand out to my Mother; it was met with coldly glaring eyes and a thinning of the lips.

'Well then,' Chapmell said rubbing his hands together, 'lets welcome our representative from the Capitol! I give you Raphael Loki!'

Upon these words a man strode through the suddenly open doors at the back of the stage; his hair was a bright cerulean blue, as were his matching eyeliner and eyebrows. His suit was a dull gold with black shiny shoes which could only be worn in the Capitol where the polished streets and roads could never scuff or scratch the polish. During the pestilence the Capitol had closed its gates and left the districts to battle through the disease themselves, their excuse, to help stamp out the disease. Whilst the Capitol 'sacrificed' themselves to isolation they became 'institutionalised' which basically meant that they reformed to being soulless dream-sucking fiends again.

'District 12! I am Raphael Loki!' upon the last phrase Loki flung his arms out to accept applause, he received none. Clearing his throat in embarrassment Loki slowly drew his arms back down to his sides. 'Well then, let's just get down to business. Ladies first seems to be the tradition, but let's be spontaneous and have Gentlemen first as it is the first new Hunger Games, let us create a few new traditions!'

Crossing to the large bowl, in which every boy from the district had been entered once, Loki's feet echoed across the square. He quickly dipped his hand into the bowl and pulled out a small slip of paper which carried someone's fate upon it. Crossing quickly back to the microphone Loki opened the slip, reaching the microphone he paused and surveyed the square.

'The male tribute for District 12, Jared Kingly.'

A shriek from the parent pens broke the still air and I turned slightly to see a woman I assumed to be his Mother collapsed to the floor shaking uncontrollably; turning to the male pens I saw Kingly. His face had gone the pale white of the dead and his eyes had a wild look to them.

'Jared Kingly!' Loki's voice rang out throughout the square. Kingly didn't move simply stared straight ahead.

'Move you idiot,' I muttered under my breath. As though he heard me from 4 meters away, Kingly shook himself and strode towards to the stage, head held high.

'There's a good lad,' Loki said when Kingly reached him, 'just stand over there beside your mentors,'

Kingly strode over to my parents, my Father grasped his shoulder in support.

'And now onto the ladies!'

My breath caught in my throat as Loki marched his way across the stage to the female ball. After brief rifling through the slips he withdrew his hand grasping a death slip. 'The female victor from District 12 is. Nelda Mellark!'

Everything slowed down and all I could hear was the pounding of my own heart deafening me. "Nelda Mellark!" I still didn't move, I didn't even blink. Someone behind me pushed me forwards and I stumbled into the spotlight.

'There she is ladies and gentlemen our female tribute for district 12!'

I was suddenly surrounded by Peacekeepers in their silly white jumpsuits and guns. 'Move Mellark,' one of them grunted. Accompanied by my entourage I walked stiffly to the stage. As I approached the shallow steps I glanced at my parents. My Father looked as horrified as I expected him to, yet my Mother merely looked at me as she had gazed at Kingly; like I was just another tribute and not her daughter. I felt my heart tighten and the strange urge to be sick. We are made to shake hands, the tributes, at the top of the steps and then stand on either side of Loki who placed his hands on our shoulders.

'Ladies and Gentlemen the tributes for District 12!'


	3. Passage Into The Unknown

Passage into the Unknown 

_A_fter finding myself in the grip of Loki, almost smelling the vapour of his excitement expiring into the atmosphere, the anthem of Panem rang out through the speakers surrounding the square and after one last flash of a photograph being taken, we were ushered inside the Justice Building shutting out the deathly quiet of outside. The inside of the Justice Building was much more opulent than I thought it would be, considering the war had blown in to bits; I voiced this notion and was replied with a scoff from one of my entourage of keepers, 'It was rebuilt to show the world that nothing just can be quenched easily.' I looked at him to see his expression and was surprised to see him gazing intently at my Mother whist she returned the gaze somewhat frostily. I didn't dare speak again until I was alone in a small sitting room in which I would receive a few guests for my farewell.

And so I waited. And waited. And waited. No-one came, not a soul; not even my family. I felt the tears building beneath my closed lids and fought to keep them there, I expected thee to be more cameras the moment I left the comforts of the Justice Building.

It's a short ride from the Justice Building to the train station; the car ride was silent with not even the landscape providing much entertainment. Upon our arrival flashes shone through the blacked out windows as photographers tried to take photos through the glass.

'Here we go tributes' Loki said flashing a smile before climbing out of the car. I gazed at Kingly, hoping for a little help.

'Shall we,' he said offering me his hand. I smiled and took it, he climbed out of the car first holding my hand my the fingertips, as I put my right foot on the ground his grip tightened slightly and I was pulled forwards from the car and left to spill out on the hard pavement. Silence. All cameras were trained on me, waiting for me to speak; yet it wasn't me that did.

'Always have been clumsy haven't you Nelda? Not your greatest aspect.' Kingly said with a smirk, and the cameras caught every word. I was traumatised and the world new it, I turned my head slightly to gaze at my Mother to find her walking onto the train and ignoring my predicament, dragging my Father with her. I pulled myself up and upon the rising decided to play up the comedy and laughed.

'I hope that's the last stumble I have on the way.' A few camera insects laughed whilst I stalked past Kingly muttering threateningly under my breath, 'and I hope that was yours also.' My words stopped him in his tracks and as I stepped onto the train I gazed back at him with my blue eyes cold as ice. 'Come along Kingly, you don't want to miss the train, do you?' Again I was rewarded with raucous laughter from the camera insects, Kingly stalked onto the train angrily and without a word stalked past me and retreated further into the train; whilst I, waved at the cameras as though I couldn't get enough until the train picked up too much speed and they and District 12 vanished from view.

The tribute train is fancier than even the room at the Justice Building. We are each given our own chambers that have a bedroom, a dressing room and a private bathroom with hot and cold running water. There are drawers filled to the brim with five clothes and undergarments, gazing at myself in the mirror I decided to shower before dinner; though I lived in a Victors House I had never had a shower, we only had a bath at home. The shower felt like a warm waterfall in which the water smelt like raspberries. I dressed in a light blue sundress leaving my hair down and curling at the bottom. Whilst I was pulling on some matching sandals, Loki came to collect me and take me to dinner; finally I would face my Mother and be able to demand the reasons behind her coldness towards me. I follow Loki down a long corridor into the dining room in which there's a table filled with food laden upon dishes of glass. Jared Kingly sits waiting for us, the chair next to him is empty and across from him is my Father, head down and hands clasped upon the table.

'Where's Katniss?' asks Loki brightly.

'Sleeping, she's exhausted,' my Father mumbled.

'Well it's been an exhausting day, perfectly understandable.' Loki says as he settled himself down at the table. It took him a few moments to realise I hadn't moved. 'Nelda?' he asks, 'are you sitting down?'

'Or are you going to go running to Mummy and snuggle down with her,' Kingly asks snidely. His comment broke me out of my trancelike state.

'Of course not,' I reply, 'I'm an adult now and will behave as such,'

As I seated myself I noted my Father smile slightly at my remark. Loki twitched his fingers slightly at a waiter beside him.

'Let's begin dinner,' he said

'Yes,' I murmured, 'roll on the show.

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	4. Mother like Daughter

Mother like Daughter 

_A_fter dinner I rose quickly and silently left the dining cart before receiving another sneer from Kingly, a compliment from Loki or nothing from my Father. I needed to speak to someone with a semblance of a brain cell, no matter how depressed or unresponsive they may be; I needed my Mother.

Before I knew it I was staring at the door to my parent's suite filled for some reason with trepidation. I did not recall the journey here, it was almost as though my mind had gone blank for the short walk from the dining cart to this barren door. I raised my right fist, noticing for the first time that my knuckles were scraped from my fall at the station, and knocked three stataco beats on the door. The door was opened abruptly almost as though she was waiting on the other side of the door for me.

'Get in here,' she muttered and pulled me into the room before slamming the door behind her. 'What are you doing? You can't come barging in here, especially where we are! Don't you understand what's happening?'

'What?' I shouted, 'If you can explain to me as to why you, my mother, has ignored me and avoided me since the Reaping then please, do.'

'I had to you stupid child!' she cried, wringing her hands and stalking around the room, 'Do you know what would happen if I showed even slight love for you? For starters I would not be able to be your mentor, it's a miracle I am already, you would be pushed to the limits in the arena; more than you will be. I don't know what to do Nelda,' suddenly she lashed out and struck a lamp to the floor. 'If you have a solution as to how I; the face of the old rebellion, can achieve keeping my daughter alive in that arena then pray tell me.'

'For starters you could explain to me why I even need you in the arena it's not as though I can talk to you through a headset is it?'

Her eyes flashed and for a moment she looked truly terrifying as she stalked towards me. 'You need your Father and I more than you ever had Nelda, we are your lifeline in the Games; providers of food, medicine, sponsors. Everything you need to survive.' She spoke the latter quietly intensifying the true seriousness of the situation; I could die.

'Of course you can die,' she said, I hadn't realised I had spoken aloud, 'but your Father and I shall do everything in our power to help you, and if that means showing you and that Kingly boy equal amounts of attention and aid then so be it.'

'You don't like him?' I asked as I moved to an armchair to perch on.

'Of course not. He's arrogant, insubordinate and as slippery as a eel, but he may be as important to you as your mentors and due to this I cannot allow him to realise this; else he stake unfair gamesmanship,' she spat.

I nodded slowly thinking. 'so I'm to behave the same with him?'

'Yes, the rivalry of two tributes from one district will aid you both,'

I raised my eyebrows in questioning.

'It will call attention to you, probably already has,' she sat opposite to me on the teal armchair. 'District 12 needs all the attention it can get.'

Neither of us seemed to know what to say for a moment and simply gazed at each other.

'I'm afraid Mother; incredibly, I have never felt so scared not even when that wild boar chased me through the woods during shooting practice,'

She smiled gently, 'ah yes, I do believe I told you to aim for the eye, not the tusks.'

I laughed slightly, 'it was a good job you were up in that elm tree to shoot in case,' but you won't be able to be there if I miss in the arena I added silently. Almost as though she read my mind, my Mother rose and showed me the first sign of affection since the Reaping.

'You shall be fine Nelda, I have faith in you,' she murmured into my hair, 'many have forgotten the old ways of foraging for food and the hunt; you can kill and survive.'

'What if that isn't enough?' I whispered, she drew back from me and gazed at me gravelly.

'It was for me.'

She held me again for a moment her arms tighter than a few seconds ago.

'How did you and Daddy win the Games?' it was a question I had wanted to know for years, but never had the courage to ask. Again, Mother drew back from our embrace and smiled briefly, highlighting the slight scar above her upper lip.

'We played the Capitol as you and Kingly shall, yet instead of hatred we pretended to be in love.'


	5. Majestic Knives

**Majestic Knives**

As I lay in bed that night watching the shadows dancing across the ceiling, I began to see things much clearer. Jared Kingly was my partner in these games; together we could win the attention and most likely, the affection of the Capitol people with a few clever remarks and expressing our pure dislike for one another. Better step that up to pure hatred to get more sponsors, I thought.

A finale between two tributes from the same districts had never happened in any of the games, my mother had told me told me as I was leaving her room yesterday; the thought of it was bound to set many hands rubbing together in excitement and glee, whilst back home killing our own is unforgiveable. Of course I was discounting the other twenty-two tributes, in the morning the Capitol would begin broadcasting to the country the Reaping's and I would be able to see who my competition would be. Will the years have made many districts forget to train their children in survival? Teaching them how to hunt and forage for food? My parents hadn't neglected to teach me those skills, almost as though they expected the games to return; were there other's with parents the same? Trained killers such as myself.

I didn't sleep that night, just gazed at the ceiling thinking of countless horrors that may befall me; I watched the shadows on the ceiling fade and become the brightness of the dawn, watched the deep orange turn into the bright light that can only be described as yellow wash the ceiling in its glow. Time to face the day.

After my shower I headed down towards the dining compartment for a early breakfast, expecting to be alone with my thoughts I was rather surprised, then annoyed, to see I wasn't alone. That instead I, and my thoughts, would have to share with a certain fiery red head with a temper to match. He didn't look up from his breakfast of hot sausages, bacon and eggs. I sat in front of him with my own plate full and also a large mug of hot chocolate; I had discovered it last night and instantly fallen in love. For a while we sat in silence eating slowly, the scraping of metal cutlery on plates the only sound reverberating around the room.

'So, apparently you're my ticket home,' Kingly said abruptly, cutting into his bacon; whilst I choked on mine. 'According to your dear Daddy anyway.'

He watched as I had a large gulp of water to clear my throat, I drank longer than needed to try and gather my thoughts.

'You've been told,' I rasped

'Obviously, I know that the Capitol loves the fact that I apparently can't stand you and vice versa,' he said wryly.

'Apparently?' I asked my interest piqued, 'you do hate me, you let me sprawl flat on my face in front of _everyone_ at the station, making me appear weak! Or was it all an act?'

'Honestly? I didn't plan it, but it was rather splendid the way you face planted the floor, although I didn't enjoy the way you made me look stupid. But clever on your behalf I must say.'

I made some sort of nonchalant sound before sipping my hot chocolate, and promptly burnt my tongue, it took all of my will power not to spit it out and so I was able to swallow the scalding mouthful in front of Jared Kingly's smirking face.

'Too hot for the daughter of the girl on fire?' he asked

'Who?' I asked perplexed.

'The girl on fire! Face of the rebellion! Saviour of our souls, at least for thirty-six years anyway.' He sang all of this brandishing his knife like a sword. I gazed at him still perplexed and he lowered his majestic knife, 'your Mother.'

I laughed, 'I think you may have gotten your lyrics muddled Mr Kingly, my Mother ran into the forest during the rebellion and returned a few months after it was over, she's told me, true it wasn't too noble as a Victor but at least she's alive.'

'Oh really? She told you that? For she would never lie to _you_, her darling Nelda would she? Nor threaten the whole district that whoever told you would meet the end of her arrow before the end of the day?

When you were ten and she handed out those rewards to the family of that miner that was killed in the accident, what did she tell you when they called her the girl on fire on the podium?'

'She said it was because of the fire in the arena and that she was caught on fire more than any other, it was the Capitols joke.' I said trying to keep the fire out of my voice.

'Then why would it be a good thing to be named the girl on fire? Why would our district celebrate that, almost every year?'

I was silent, lost for words, Kingly lent forwards on the table his eyes mischievous with something dark behind them.

'Why would they Nelda?' he said intensely

'You're lying,' I snarled

'Why would I lie Nelda? I hate you apparently, and you should know that enemies always tell one another the truth because of how much it hurts,' he smiled then a crooked smile that gave me chills, 'do you know what else they called her?'

I looked up at darkly him from under my fringe, 'don't tell me, the firebird?' I scoffed

He lent even closer to me, 'no. They called her the name even you have heard of, the woman that _was_ the face of the rebellion. You remember, we learnt about her in school before they abolished the history; she's the woman that sparked fire and destruction all over Panem to save us all. That flattened the Capitol until they rose from the ashes and brought us back to everything your damn mother fought for, destroying the world in the process. Don't you want to know what they called her? 'Stop it,' I spat my hand curling around my breakfast knife.

'They called her the Mockingjay.'

That's when I threw my knife at him.


End file.
